Rosalie's POV
I trail behind Poe as he leads me away from the crowded dining hall toward a secluded corridor where our conversation won't draw unwanted attention. His shoulders are tense, and I can see the weight of whatever mission he's running pressing down on him like a physical burden.
Once we reach the empty hallway, he glances around with the practiced vigilance of someone who's spent years in dangerous situations. Only when he's satisfied we're truly alone does he turn to face me, and I watch as he drags both hands down his face in obvious frustration.
"This timing couldn't be worse," he says, his voice rough with exhaustion. "I can't stay here. Not now, not when everything is hanging by a thread."
